


Bright Does Not Want To Kiss Ephram

by lalejandra



Category: Everwood
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Transformative Works Welcome, dead mouse disposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-12-17
Updated: 2003-12-17
Packaged: 2019-07-14 11:21:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16039463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalejandra/pseuds/lalejandra





	Bright Does Not Want To Kiss Ephram

"Hey."

"Ephram?"

"Bright?"

"I need you to come over."

"Uh. Why?"

"Because I do."

"Is this the part where you clumsily attempt to seduce me and I allow myself to be taken in by your awkward charm?"

"Like I would ever seduce someone who kissed my sister. Really, dude."

"So you'd seduce me otherwise?"

"Dude, stop fucking around. I need you to come over here. Right. Now."

"Is your dad there?"

"No. No one is home except me. And--"

"I'm still feeling like this is your cunning plan to get me naked."

"Get your ass over here, Brown, and stop trying to make me go blind."

Ephram hung up the phone, a bit bemused, a bit amused, and just stood there, carrot stick in one hand, brows furrowed.

"Was that Bright?" asked Madison. She took the red crayon, and used it to add a nose to her. Something. Reindeer? Maybe. Psychotic, rabid dog? Also a good option,

"Yeah, he wants me to come over."

"So I heard."

"I heard too." Delia glared at him. "I don't think it's nice that you're cheating on Madison with Bright."

Madison raised her eyebrows at Ephram. "Is this true?"

"Hey, you heard the conversation. Bright wants my hot, manly bod." Ephram crunched into the carrot stick and smirked as Madison and Delia giggled.

"Ephram, when you get back we're going to have a chat about sharing. And while you're gone, I'm going to talk to Delia--" Madison turned her gaze onto Delia's Brooklyn Cyclones hat. "--about sarcasm."

"Maybe it wasn't sarcasm. Did you ever think of that?" Ephram pushed off the counter and smirked at Madison again before he left the room.

"Boys are weird," said Delia as she took the red crayon back.

#

"Dude. Dude, I am so glad you are here."

Bright was sitting on the Abbotts' front porch, knees up to his chest, arms wrapped around them. He wasn't wearing a jacket or a blanket or anything--just a sweatshirt and jeans and a pair of socks.

"Dude, dude." Ephram slammed the door of the SUV and walked up to Bright. "Where is your jacket?"

"You sound like my mom."

"You are going to get sick."

"You still sound like my mom."

"Go get a jacket."

"I'm not going back in there."

"What?"

"Dude. I cannot go in there."

"Why not?" Ephram squinted through the front windows. "Are Amy and Laynie trading PMS tips again?"

"I told you I was alone, dude."

"It's going to be pretty hard to seduce me outside on your front porch."

"I know this is hard to believe, dude, but not everyone is hot for you. I just want you to be a man and go in there, and get rid of the mouse."

"The mouse?"

"The mouse."

"What mouse?"

"The mouse that committed suicide in my bedroom."

"The mouse that committed suicide in your bedroom?"

"What is so hard to understand about this?" Bright rubbed his toes. "Just go in there and get it out and then I can go back inside where it's warm. Stop stalling."

"And you called me because...?"

"There are a lot of mice in New York, right? I figure you've done this before."

"Are you seriously afraid of mice?" Ephram raised his eyebrows. Amazing. The great Bright Abbott, star of football field and basketball court, afraid of a mouse. A dead mouse, even.

"No, genius, I'm not afraid of mice. I just don't like. Dead. Mice." Bright's lips were tight and his eyes were narrow, but Ephram still wasn't understanding the problem.

"Bright. It's just a mouse. You take a garbage bag and--"

"No! I don't want to know! Just go do it before I freeze my balls off."

"That would be a tragedy." The front door was unlocked, so Ephram just went in. Bright's room was down the hall from Amy's room; he'd been there exactly once. Mostly Bright had come over to the Browns', or they'd stood outside playing basketball. Well, Bright had played basketball and Ephram had brooded and let Bright hit him in the head with the ball.

That did sound kind of perverted, didn't it? And what was Madison on about, anyway. Sharing? Did she want to have The Commitment Talk about Being Monogamous and Really Caring About One Person? Ephram knew all that shit already; he was committed. And so was she. And so was his dad. And that was the hard part. In New York, no one would have cared if he was seeing someone, much less cared how old she was--but in Everwood, everyone knew everyone else's business.

Except Ephram was pretty sure that he was the only one in Everwood who knew Bright Abbott was afraid of mice. And when Ephram got to Bright's room, he kind of understood what the problem was. The mouse was trapped under Bright's bedroom door, in the corner by the hinges, stuck there, in a pool of blood, mouse guts on the floor.

Ew.

Ephram stuck his hands in his pockets and went back downstairs. He shed his jacket, and poked through cabinets until he found the big black garbage bags the Abbotts had put their leaves into, and a brand new dish scrubber, and some bleach, and a bucket. He mixed up a bit of bleach and water, and dropped the scrubber into it.

Then he grabbed an afghan from the living room, and poked his head out the door.

"Uh, Bright?"

"Is it gone?"

"Do your parents really care about their floors?"

"Dude, I am freezing my balls off here. I don't care what you have to do to the floor! Just get rid of it!"

"Okay." Ephram shrugged and tossed Bright the blanket. "Here."

Ephram found himself humming "Whistle While You Work" on his way upstairs, arms laden with mouse-disposing materials. He wasn't sure if that was ironic or just his black humor resurfacing.

Ephram carefully lifted the door as much as the hinges would allow and pushed the door open. He wrapped the garbage bag around his hand and pried the mouse out of the corner, and then folded the garbage bag over it. So gross. So very, very gross. But not so gross that Bright couldn't have done this for himself. Ephram shook his head, squeezed the scrubber sponge, and began to scrub. First the door, then the wall, then finally the floor. His piano for a pair of rubber gloves. He'd seen some in the kitchen, but they were by the sink, and he didn't see Harold and Rose understanding that he'd used their dishwashing gloves for mouse disposal.

The blood was the hardest part, but after some scrubbing, it was pretty much all gone. Just a faded area remained, a little pink, a little reddish. Bright would have to suffer with it.

Ephram dropped the sponge into the garbage bag and tied the bag off, poured the bloody bleach down Bright's bathtub and ran cold water after it, then as hot as it would go to rinse out the bucket. He didn't figure Bright was one for baths, and that was a good thing. He washed his hands off and sniffed Bright's shampoo. Pumpkin spice, from the Body Shop. Funny, he wouldn't have taken Bright for the kind of guy to wash his hair with clove and cinnamon scented shampoo. Maybe Bright was the kind of guy who took baths after all.

He kind of wished he could have rinsed the bucket out in Amy's bathroom, though. That would have been. Too mean, even for him. And yet it would have given him a nice sense of satisfaction, he thought. Amy was kind of the like the mouse--accidentally closing doors on herself and squishing herself with them. Now Madison? Madison would slam the fucking door and to hell with anyone caught inside it, even herself. There was a kind of single mindedness there that Ephram had to admire.

The thought made him smile, and he was still smiling when he went down the stairs, still smiling when he put the bucket away, still smiling when he brought the mouse in the plastic bag outside.

"Done," he said, brandishing the bag at Bright. Bright jumped away.

"That is not cool, dude."

Ephram shrugged, and walked around the house to deposit the bag into the garbage can. When he went back inside, Bright had moved from the porch to the couch, but was still holding his legs, the blanket tucked around him.

"Hey. Dude. Bright. It was just a mouse."

"What would make a mouse want to kill itself in my room like that?"

"Bright, the mouse did not kill itself. It was just an accident."

"The mouse killed itself," Bright insisted. "How else do you explain the sudden death?"

"It was trapped in the door. It was sliding through and the pressure its body put on the door made the door close," Ephram explained carefully. "Then the mouse was crushed. It was a tragic, sad accident, but it can happen to any mouse."

"That doesn't make me feel any better."

"I didn't even realize there were mice in Colorado," said Ephram.

"There are mice everywhere." Bright sighed and rested his head on his knees. "Thanks, dude."

"No problem."

"That was totally excellent of you. Like, all riding to my rescue."

"Yeah, the knight in black wool, riding to your rescue in my white SUV."

"It's more like grey."

"Well, the world can't be perfect."

"Dude."

"Dude." Ephram waited expectantly for Bright to finish his thought.

"It's just. It was. Dead." He raised his head back up and looked at Ephram. "You know? And squished. And blood. And guts."

"You're looking kind of green, man." Ephram shoved his hands into his pockets and longed for a wall to lean aganst. The Abbotts' living room was not nearly as conducive to conversation as the Browns' kitchen.

"A mouse died in my bedroom!"

"I am totally sure you have seen a dead mouse before."

"No, I really haven't."

"What about dead bugs?"

"Bugs are not cute."

"Neither are mice. They are filled with disease and they shit on everything."

"So?"

"They aren't cute, Bright. Plus, you, like, eat meat. Like, all the time. So how is that okay but a dead mouse in your bedroom isn't?"

"But I'm not going to eat a mouse, am I?"

"They do in some places."

"That's gross, dude."

"That's life."

"But the mouse is dead."

"I feel like you are a little too obsessed with the dead mouse. I am going home--to Madison."

"Is that, like, the way people feel the need to affirm their lives by having sex?"

"Kind of, but I'm not leaving to have sex. I'm leaving to get away from your sick mouse obsession."

"Can I come?"

Ephram sighed and rolled his eyes, but nodded his head. "Fine. Let's go. But when Madison and I decide we want to make out, you have to play with Delia."

"Hey, I like Delia!" Bright shoved his feet into his sneakers and grabbed his coat.

"I like her too but that doesn't mean I'd rather hang out with her than make out with Madison." Ephram held the door open for Bright and then followed him out to the car.

"I bet Delia is going to be a great kisser when she grows up." Bright bounded into the SUV, and as soon as Ephram had turned the key, he had the radio on and was changing the jazz and blues station to a hip hop station.

"I wish you wouldn't say things like that."

"Aw, does it take you to the bad place?"

"Yes. The very bad place. Where bad people go with bad thoughts and ideas." Ephram gripped the steering wheel tighter, and glanced over at Bright. He was staring out the window, bopping his head along to Jay-Z. "People who kiss other people's sisters go to the very special bad place."

"Madison is someone's sister, you know."

"No she's not. She's an only child."

"Still."

"Delia is eleven!"

"She won't be eleven forever!"

"I thought you wanted to seduce me? Now you're on to my sister already?"

"Dude, I think you want to seduce me." Bright turned his head and caught Ephram staring at him. "You are totally obsessed with my hot bod!"

"I am not!"

"You are!"

"Not!"

"Are!"

"Not!"

"Are!"

"I refuse to have this conversation with you." Ephram glared at the road; he could see Bright smiling out of the corner of his eye, and clenched his jaw.

"You liiiiiiike me," said Bright in a sing-song voice. "You like me, like me, like me!"

"Bright, you're a dick." Ephram pulled into the Browns' driveway and turned the car off savagely. He jumped out of the SUV and slammed his door, still scowling.

"Hey, Bright." Madison opened the front door before Ephram could put his key into the lock. "Did you and Ephram have fun making out?"

"We did not make out!" Ephram pushed past her into the house.

"Ephram, I'm going to tell dad that you kiss boys if you don't start being nicer to Madison," threatened Delia as Ephram thundered past her and up the stairs.

Madison giggled, and Bright winked at her.

"And you, Bright!" Delia ran up to him. "You are supposed to be mine; you can't just go around kissing anyone you want to with no regard for my feelings. I thought we had a deal!"

"You have a deal?" asked Madison.

Bright took off his jacket and threw it onto the couch. "I told Delia that if she still liked me when she was a grown up, we'd get married."

"I don't want to get married. Don't be stupid." Delia turned to Madison and tugged on the brim of her cap. "We're going to have a commitment ceremony to affirm our love. Then we are going to live together and play air hockey."

"That sounds like an excellent plan."

"I think so." Bright shrugged.

"So what did you call my brother over for, anyway?"

"You have to promise not to tell." Bright crouched down and whispered in Delia's ear, "There was a mouse."

"A mouse!" squealed Delia.

"A mouse?" asked Madison.

"A mouse." Bright nodded. "And Ephram... took care of it."

"My wimpy brother killed a mouse?"

"No, it was already dead."

"So why didn't you just throw it away?"

"Because."

"Good answer." Madison grinned down at him. "Come on--Delia and I made cookies."

"I'll bring some up to Ephram," offered Bright.

"About Ephram--" Madison broke off, and waited until Delia had raced ahead of them into the kitchen. "You can't just go around macking on my boyfriend."

"I am not macking on your boyfriend." Bright twisted his wrist and put his hand in her face. "Back off."

"You back off." Hands on hips, Madison clenched her jaw the same way Ephram did. "If you're going to be--if you and Ephram--if you--well. I want to watch. That's all."

Bright did a double take. "What? Dude!"

"Dude," she mocked. "If you are going to kiss my boyfriend, I want to watch. That's the deal."

"Why does everyone think I want to kiss Ephram?"

"Everyone wants to kiss Ephram."

"You are on crack."

"Just admit it."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"I refuse to talk about this with you. This is harrassment. I'm going to get Delia and she's going to beat you up."

"Uh-huh."

"I mean it."

"Say it. Say you want to kiss him."

"Fine. I want to kiss him. Everyone wants to kiss him!"

"Especially since he came over to your house and saved you from the big, mean mouse."

"Especially since he came over to my house and saved me from the big, mean mouse." Bright glared at her. "Can I have a cookie now?"

Madison just laughed. Bright tightened his lips and stormed past her into the kitchen where Delia looked at him knowingly. He ate nine cookies, drank two glasses of milk, and felt very off-balance.

When Ephram came back downstairs and snagged a cookie from Delia's plate, Bright stood up and said, "I am not going to kiss you."

"You are obsessed with kissing me!" Ephram chewed on his bite of cookie and puffed his cheeks out like a chipmunk.

"Everyone is obsessed with kissing you." Madison lifted her head up and Ephram pressed his cookie-crumb mouth down to hers.

"I am not obsessed with kissing you." Bright turned to Delia. "Delia, tell them. I don't want to kiss Ephram. You and I have a deal."

"Come on, Bright. You totally want to kiss my brother." Delia rolled her eyes.

"I thought you were on my side!"

"I'm on the side of justice," Delia informed him. "Also, my dad is going to be home soon and I am on the side of dinner. Since Madison makes dinner, I am on Madison's side."

"Dinner," repeated Bright. "Sounds good. What are we having?"

"No one invited you to stay."

"Ephram!" Madison swatted his ass as he walked toward the fridge.

"What?"

"He's going to be your brother in law."

"In, like, twenty years when Delia is finally allowed to date."

"I will date whenever I want to," Delia announced.

"Delia, you're eleven."

"Shut up, Ephram."

"Besides," Ephram continued, as though Delia hadn't spoken, "your soon-to-be-boyfriend wants to kiss me instead."

"I don't want to kiss you!" cried Bright. "Here--look." Bright jumped up from the table and grabbed Ephram's face between his hands, and pressed their lips together. "See! No spark. No kissing."

Ephram's mouth was open and wet, and Delia's mouth was open and her eyes were wide, and Madison's hand had fluttered up to her chest and she was breathing funny.

"M-maybe. Maybe we ought to try again?" suggested Ephram. "Just to make sure."

"Go ahead," said Madison from behind them. "Try again."

"Yes, try again."

Bright stared at Ephram. Kid was busted looking--fucked up nose, weirdly shaped mouth, too skinny, caved in shoulders, no ass--there was nothing attractive about him, from his ugly sneakers all the way up to his gelled hair. Bright didn't want to kiss him again, hadn't wanted to kiss him in the first place, wasn't quite sure why he had kissed him, and knew that if he didn't leave now, he was going to be stuck with the Brown family in his life forever.

"Go ahead," said Ephram. "Try again."

Bright leaned down and closed his eyes and felt Ephram's mouth against his, Ephram's tongue darted out and swiped against Bright's lips, and he made a startled sound and opened his mouth, and felt like the stupidest of girls, that he fell for such a trick--a trick he'd used himself! And then Ephram's tongue was in his mouth, and Bright realized that he was definitely going to be stuck with the Brown family--and possibly Madison--forever.

  



End file.
